


Three Women of Note

by AlessNox



Category: Sherlock (TV), omegaverse - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Gen, Omegaverse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 18:11:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17085227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlessNox/pseuds/AlessNox
Summary: A reporter comes to interview a reclusive author. She learns the story of three girls who struggle to remain friends in a world where male and female are only the genders you start with.An Omegaverse story with characters inspired by BBC Sherlock.





	Three Women of Note

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story in the omegaverse shared AU.  
> I was always more fascinated with the world than the sex. But don't worry, there will be sex.  
> Later chapters/stories may have different ratings.  
> This is a work in progress, and I really appreciate any comments or encouragement you can give me. Thanks for reading.

The house was large, compared to the others in the neighborhood, but not as large as she had expected. It hardly looked grand enough for such a noted author. The walls were painted white, the door black with a bronze door knob and no name plate. Only a brass street number, 221 hung beside the door.

The air was humid. It had hit her like a fist when she had arrived on the island, making her sweaty and uncomfortable in her heavy clothes. The people around her wore bright gowns with corded trim that seemed even brighter against their black faces. She found the garments they wore hard to parse. Looking at them, she couldn’t tell who was alpha, beta, or omega. She hardly knew how to address anyone, mumbling through her introductions for fear of offending. Luckily no one here seemed to mind. They all smelled beta anyway. The Bahamas had hardly any of the ruling class living here.

She fanned herself with the card she’d got from the publishing house. A simple address, a date. She looked at her watch, waiting for the exact time to ring the bell.

The door opened to reveal a thin, well-dressed, dark-skinned alpha in a black suit with a high collar. She sighed with relief to see an alpha servant properly dressed.

“Good Morning, Sirra. I have an appointment. Is the master of the house in?”  
“I am she.”  
“You mean to say that you are Dr. Molly Hooper, best-selling author of Omegas – Their physical anatomy, emotional development, and sexual health?”  
“Yes, that is I. I would think you would recognize me if you’ve read the book. My picture is on the back of the paperback. Although not the hardback. The publisher thought a dust cover would make it look tacky. Anyway, how may I help you?” Dr Hooper smiled, but his eyes were frowning.

The woman reached into her bag and took out a thin black wallet. “Here are my credentials. I was sent to conduct an interview. You did receive my letter, did you not?”

Doctor Hooper leaned over and examined the image on the card before saying, “A letter? I do seem to remember seeing one around, but I don’t usually handle the correspondence unless it is of a medical kind. So, what was it you wanted from me, Sirra?”

“An interview… it was clearly defined in the letter, and you accepted. The time was agreed upon… I do have the acceptance here somewhere.” She started digging in her bag again.

“No need for any of that. Come in, come in. We’ll see if we can summon up some tea and biscuits from somewhere.”

Dr Hooper led her into a nicely appointed parlor. It was cool compared to the outside, A light breeze blew in through a window covered with a decorated wooden grate carved with the shapes of feeding cranes. The holes in the grate let the light and wind come through. The floor was richly paneled, and the furniture was hand carved with golden accents painted on the dark wooden tables. The tastefulness and comfort of the room immediately put her at ease.

She lowered herself into a smartly upholstered chair with a sigh, before noticing that the host was not yet seated. She jumped to her feet with an apology on her lips, but Dr Hooper waved a hand motioning for her to sit.

“Please, you get comfortable. I will just see go see about that tea.”

As Dr Hooper backed out of the room, the reporter noticed that he was wearing slippers on his feet, and the black suit was of a thin silky fabric instead of the stiff garments they wore back home. Dr Hooper was likely not nearly as hot as she was in her lined morning suit.

In the absence of observation, the reporter rose to her feet and began to examine the room closely. The grated window seemed to look into a courtyard. The kind often rumored of in Omega sanctuaries. She rose to her feet and peered through a hole in the grate to see a palm tree blowing in the breeze. The house had wings on either side but the yard was not completely enclosed. The back of the yard looked out onto the ocean. She could just see the white of a sailboat through a gap in the waving palm fronds.

The salon had a tasteful European flair, with flower filled vases and only small bits of local color: A carved wooden woman carrying a basket on her head. A blown glass ashtray shaped like a sailboat. On one wall was a large mirror in an elaborately carved golden frame. An other wall held a still life, a bowl of fruit including a pineapple. Searching through the drawers, she found only writing paper and a pen, a rubber band, some cotton lint, a black stone with sharp edges,  basalt perhaps?

What she didn’t notice were any photographs or paintings of Doctor Hooper or anyone else. There also were no windows facing out into the street. The only access to the front of the house was a peephole in the door. She peered through it out onto the street, only to return hurriedly to her seat when she heard the tinkling of china cups coming closer.

 

Dr Hooper entered the room holding a tea service on a silver tray. Steam was coming from a white porcelain tea pot. He placed the set on the table and picked up a set of small silver tongs.

“One lump or two?” the doctor asked with a smile.

“I prefer one, but I don't mind serving myself.”

“I wouldn’t dare let a guest serve themselves in my house." The doctor said dropping a cube in a cup before lifting both cup and pot and pouring a generous portion. "Please allow me.”

The reporter shifted in her chair uncomfortably. It was unnerving to be served by someone of a higher rank, especially such a distinguished Alpha. Where where his servants? She took the cup carefully, and sat forward in her chair as she sipped.

“Thank You!” she said.

She had been unnerved from the moment the door had opened. No, before then when she had walked past the rows of dark-skinned natives in their informal dress to this unassuming street. Dr Hooper was not as she had been led to believe.

Given his reputation, a name famous throughout the civilized world, she had imagined that he lived in a mansion on a private island filled with armed guards and uniformed beta servants in black. She had not expected to be met at the door by the alpha himself wearing house slippers. And this parlor, although tasteful and dignified, it seemed more suited for an old Omega widow than the scandalous betrayer of the social order!

Looking down, she noticed that Dr Hooper had changed into proper leather oxfords. His clothes were nicely tailored, but no more fashionable than any normal Alpha of lower birth, and he was of a very high rank, although he was the youngest son. Other than that, she had known very little of the man. He was brown and plain and smaller than the average alpha. 

She noticed his eyes on her, and she lowered hers to her cup to keep from offending him in his home. She took a sip.

The tea was excellent. It was slightly sweet, a pleasant mixture of rose and orange. She appreciated the very fine blend. Dr Hooper sat across the table from her on the beige brocade covered loveseat. 

“So, you wanted to interview me?"

"Yes, for a feature in Modern Alpha magazine."

"A feature? What is this feature to be about?”

“About you… about the three of you.”

“I beg pardon?”

“I was curious... that is we were curious about your life. About what led you to write your book. About your beginnings. What could possibly have inspired a distinguished alpha such as yourself to write a book about the sexuality of omegas? I'd like to know how you became who you are today.”

“I assure you my life was quite ordinary.”  
“I don’t for a moment believe that. Ordinary people don’t write the most controversial tome of the twentieth century. Ordinary people don’t challenge the very foundations of Alpha/Omega society overnight!”

“But they do. Ordinary people are the ones who cause all change to happen, little by little. We all start the same after all."

"But we don't all start the same. Some have greater connection and influence. You can't ignore that."

"No. but it is true that everyone begins as little boys and little girls with no secondary gender. It is only later, after the change, that the expectations of the world come upon us and we were expected to become great men and ladies, or nobodies.“

“But you did not become a nobody. I want to know about you. I have a tape recorder. Would you let me record the interview?”  
“That's fine.”  
“Thank you.”

“So then, where do you want me to begin?”

“Can you tell me the moment that you first imagined your future as an alpha.”

“My future as an alpha? As a child, I had no understanding of that. Most of the time I never even thought of adulthood."

"But when you did. Do you remember any of those times?"

"I remember one council day when I was about ten years old. It was the first time I thought of what life might be like after the change. I was just a little girl then.”

The reporter checked to see that the tape was turning. “Please, Sirra. Please tell me the story?”

“Alright. Let me top off your tea, and I’ll tell you about that day long ago when I first began to think of the future, and who we all might become.”


End file.
